


Not All is Lost

by Syrum



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:23:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3690402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrum/pseuds/Syrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prompt from anon:  ‘Something angsty but with a happy ending? Like Dorian believing he’ll never have a chance so he goes after someone else, and that makes Cullen realize..‘</p>
<p>When the Inquisitor makes a move on Dorian, Cullen realises what it would be like to lose him, and decides on a last ditch effort to let Dorian know of his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not All is Lost

He had thought what they had together was something that might last forever, as ridiculous as that sounded even to him. The chess games in the late afternoon sunlight were fun, sometimes going on late into the night when one or the other was on a losing streak and simply did not want to give up, or for the companionship that such games offered. As the night drew in and the cold took over, they would often retreat to Dorian’s rooms to continue their games, with Cullen more often than not falling asleep there and not waking again until the following morning. As much as he had never mentioned it to Dorian, those were the only nights where he did not suffer from the crippling nightmares.

The light teasing and occasionally heavy flirting that Dorian constantly threw his way was a welcome distraction, and as much as he continued to blush at the implications even months later, Cullen found that he liked the attention, and had even started - rather unsuccessfully - to flirt back. Gently, too gentle in fact, as Dorian had completely missed it, and it appeared that their time was up.

“So dinner then, and perhaps some... _conversation_ , after?” Inquisitor Lavellan, the one man Cullen could not hope to compete against, had Dorian near enough pinned against the bookshelf, and it was clear to any who might be listening that the Inquisitor’s attentions were anything but innocent. Cullen was, unfortunately, one of the few who could hear, seated as he was in the rookery above, awaiting Leliana’s return so that he might hand his completed paperwork over to her. He had hoped to meet with Dorian afterwards, to invite him to another game, or for a drink in his office, and while the conversation Cullen offered was just that, with no hidden meaning or subterfuge, it had never stopped him from wanting what it seemed Lavellan had no issues asking for.

“I’d be delighted, my dear Inquisitor.” He heard Dorian reply entirely too enthusiastically, and though he could not see the mage’s face, he could imagine the smile there. The one he had hoped one day might be pointed at him, and that now never would be.

So that was it, then. His friend, the man who he had grown to care for, to cherish, had been stolen away from under him. The man who had taught him to care for mages once more, who eased the hurt and made the pressures of Templars and mages, of war and the Inquisition, seem near enough inconsequential. His heart ached and his eyes burned as he sat and waited, and still Leliana did not return.

Time passed, Lavellan left, and Dorian was once again alone in his little nook in the library. An idea, perhaps a bad one though only time would tell, and Cullen was on his feet, paperwork left with a hastily scrawled note beneath a paperweight upon the spymaster’s desk. She would be displeased with him, but that mattered little.

“Dorian?” He stood at the opening of the alcove, the mage turning to smile politely at the Commander, his usual warmth and flirtation suspiciously absent.

“Commander, how nice of you to join me, something I can help you with?” So he was back to being ‘Commander’, then? It was too fast, and it hurt, and Cullen had never been particularly good at hiding his hurts. “Cullen, whatever is the matter?” Softer, now. More like the Dorian he knew and loved, had grown to love.

“Dorian, I-” Words failed him, and Cullen stepped forwards, swallowing thickly as he reached out to grip Dorian’s shoulders, standing close enough that he could all but smell the magic emanating from the younger man. He remained like that for a moment, staring into eyes that were near enough the colour of the moon, before pressing a chaste kiss upon the mage’s forehead.

Dorian was stunned into silence, eyes wide and shocked, mouth hanging open ever so slightly. He remained rooted to the spot as Cullen took a step back and, with a final smile that near enough broke his heart, turned and fled from the library.

* * *

“Inquisitor Lavellan was looking for you.” Josephine matched Dorian’s pace as he marched across the courtyard in the direction of the castle, staring quizzically up at the rather frantic-looking mage.

“I am aware, Josie, thank you. Have you seen Cullen at all?” He asked briskly, earning a raised eyebrow from the Antivan woman.

“Not since this morning, no. Have you tried his room? As damp as it is up there, he seems to rather like it.”

“Yes, I’ve checked there, the war room, the stables, the tavern and the various halls and I cannot find him! No one has seen him since he vanished on me this morning.”

“Perhaps the Commander chooses not to be found?”

“Which is precisely the reason why I need to find him.” He barely acknowledged Leliana as she stepped out to walk briskly at his side for a moment, eyes flashing left and right, determined to locate the frustrating blonde and wrangle an explanation out of him.

“I hear the Commander quite enjoys waterfalls.” The Orlesian redhead murmured close to his shoulder, before taking Josephine’s arm in her own and leading the ambassador away with a pointed look back at the mage. Dorian stopped for a moment, staring as they retreated, before swearing at his own stupidity and racing off to the entrance down into the lower reaches of the castle.

Leliana’s information was, of course, correct. He found Cullen leaning over the balustrade, staring down into the depths below as water crashed only inches from his ears. He did not hear Dorian approach, did not know he had company at all until the mage dragged him back from the edge, pressed him against the nearest hard surface and claimed his mouth in a kiss that was more desperate need than it was love.

“What was-” Cullen tried once they finally parted, both panting heavily.

“No, you do _not_ get to ask that question.” Dorian cut in, looking in equal parts angry and hurt. “I spend _months_ pining after you, wanting you and _only_ you, and I _finally_ manage to move on with my life, to find _someone else_ who might actually _return_ my feelings, and you go and do something like...” He was floundering and he knew it, losing steam, losing the anger that had built up over hours of searching. “...like _that_.” He finished, eventually, sagging slightly under the weight of it all.

“I’m an idiot. A stupid, blind, Maker-forsaken idiot.” He didn’t need to think about the arms that wrapped around the conflicted-looking mage, or the lips that pressed against that high cheekbone, it all happened automatically, and he knew he should have done this months ago. “Can you forgive me?”

“I don’t know.” Dorian replied somewhat shakily, clearly unsure as to what he should be doing, whether he should push the man away or draw him closer, so he settled for neither. “Is this just a one time thing? Because if it is, walk away now. I don’t want that, not again.”

“It isn’t.” Cullen assured, holding the mage close but not too tightly, knowing that Dorian needed to feel he could run should the urge take him. “But I’m an idiot, I’ve left it too late, and now I’m terrified that I’ve lost you.”

“You haven’t. One invitation to dinner and a roll between the sheets does not constitute a relationship, Cullen.”

“I know it doesn’t.” He could not help but breathe in Dorian’s scent, feeling arms finally lift to wrap loosely around his waist, the mage leaning against him with a breathy, humourless laugh. “What can I do to prove myself to you?”

“I would request naked mud-wrestling, with the winner obtaining the honour of my presence at dinner, but I’m too afraid of Bull taking the title, so just dinner will have to suffice for now.” It was true he had agreed to dine with the Inquisitor that night, though a word in the ear of one of the better looking inhabitants of the castle might get him out of that without too much conflict.

“For you, Dorian, I would happily wrestle the Iron Bull. But dinner does sound nice.” He earned a low chuckle at that, a true laugh, and the arms around his waist only tightened as Dorian demanded another kiss, slow and sensual and with entirely too much meaning, the Tevinter mage claiming the lion of Skyhold as his own.


End file.
